


Waving Tiny Stick Hands

by sunsetmog



Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-31
Updated: 2008-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-31 01:35:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/338442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmog/pseuds/sunsetmog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I think you've really captured my spirit," Jon tells him. He has his feet up on the seat. He's wearing socks; it looks funny when he wiggles his toes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waving Tiny Stick Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jocondite (jocondite)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jocondite/gifts).



> Originally posted [here](http://sunsetmog-fics.livejournal.com/30921.html) in July 2008.

The first time Jon meets Brendon, Brendon shakes his hand with real enthusiasm, eyes wide and bright. He shares his chips and bumps his knee against Jon's and talks with his mouth full. He draws cartoon stick men down the edges of the pages of Jon's magazine, tongue out as he concentrates, tiny stick men waving tiny stick hands and playing tiny stick instruments.

"That's some careful drawing there," Jon says, after a while.

"Yeah," Brendon says, without looking up. "That's you." He points to a tiny stick figure down in the corner of the page, waving both hands and grinning wide.

"I think you've really captured my spirit," Jon tells him. He has his feet up on the seat. He's wearing socks; it looks funny when he wiggles his toes.

"Essence of Jon Walker," Brendon says. "That could be my fortune, right there."

*

"Ice cream?" Jon asks.

"Ice cream." Brendon's holding one in each hand, one for Jon, one for himself. His has chocolate and raspberry sauce and sprinkles and two scoops. It looks like a mountain, slowly melting in front of him. Jon's is just a single scoop of chocolate.

Jon eats his quickly, before the ice cream has a chance to melt. Brendon's melts all down his hand and drips onto his jeans. He opens his mouth and catches the drips on his tongue; he laughs as he wipes his mouth with his sleeve.

"Huh," Jon says, afterwards.

*

Brendon falls asleep on him on the couch as the road rolls away beneath their feet. They're all watching The Bourne Supremacy on DVD; Brendon snores gently and drools on Jon's sleeve. He wakes up towards the end, stretching like a cat and asking "who's he?" and "what are they doing?" and "why's he doing that?" until Ryan drives his fingers into Brendon's side, right beneath the ribcage. Spencer laughs at Brendon's outrage.

"Save me, Jon Walker," Brendon says, curving into Jon's side.

"Never," Jon tells him, gravely, but his fingers curve around Brendon's biceps, cotton-rough beneath his fingertips.

*

On stage, Brendon wears a crown made out of tissue paper and silver card. The crowd screams when Brendon first picks it up - Jon can pick out faces in the flickers of the strobe lights, kids with their hands in the air. Brendon sings two verses with the crown perched on his head; when Ryan's picking out the bridge Brendon leans into Jon's space and touches at his forehead with two warm fingers before dropping the crown down onto Jon's hair. "Jonwalker," he says, with a grin. "Jon Walker," he says again, when he's back at his microphone. "Jon Walker, everybody." The crowd shouts his name, a wall of solid sound.

Jon raises one hand in the air. "I salute you," he says, over the roar. Brendon laughs.

*

"Take my picture, Jon Walker," Brendon says, in the morning before Jon's had enough caffeine. He poses. "Like this. Or this."

Jon opens one eye and pushes his mug across the table. "Coffee," he says. "Bring it."

Brendon brings Jon his camera and half a mug of lukewarm coffee with too much sugar. "Cameras love me," he tells Jon. "You should take my picture. Capture the love."

Jon takes his picture; Brendon grins and leans back and blinks as the flash goes off.

"Lemme see," he says, clambering over the table and down onto the seat next to Jon. Jon shows him the screen and Brendon's fingers tangle with his as he tries to see.

"See?" Brendon says.

"Yeah," Jon says, but he's not looking at the camera.

*

Jon buys cupcakes to go with their coffee order. He picks out one with sprinkles for Brendon; the frosting is untidy round the edges and the sprinkles are all to one side. Jon has to stand with his head on one side to look at it.

"Cupcake," Jon says when he gets back to the bus. He holds it out.

"This is a sad cupcake," Brendon says, seriously. "It's all lopsided."

"Even sad cupcakes need love." Jon tells him. "I picked it out just for you."

"You wanna watch me eat it?" Brendon licks at the frosting and shifts up so there's room for Jon on the bench.

Jon shrugs. "Watching sad cupcakes become happy cupcakes is my reason for living."

"Mine too," Brendon nods. When Jon sits down, Brendon leans over and kisses him; he tastes like frosting and chocolate chips.

"Did everyone else get sad cupcakes too?" Brendon asks, afterwards. His fingers are tangled with Jon's.

Jon shakes his head. "No," he says. "Just you."


End file.
